Literature
Inuit Werewolf story (WIP)
I was thirteen when we first went to visit grandpa.
I was grumpy. It was extremely cold and harsh in Alaska, and even with our minivan heating turned all the way up, and the layers of blankets I had on, I still shivered. It was snowing outside. Not heavily, but enough to freeze a poor guy's bits off. We were driving through Anchorage, headed towards Seward. My grandpa lived in the area, and I was bitter towards him for living so far away, despite knowing how much staying in the "Homeland" meant to him. I'm descended from the Inuit tribes in eastern Canada, and my grandpa still remembers his life in the tribes and finds it important to keep t
